


Too faint to Catch

by Wandererzaehler



Series: To save the Once and Future King [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Era, Dark, F/M, Original Character-centric, Season 5 AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-07-25 20:20:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 14,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7546411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wandererzaehler/pseuds/Wandererzaehler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part 2 of the 'To save the Once and Future King' series. A lot darker than the first one; beginning two years after the disastrous Feast of Beltane, spanning another year in Camelot. Doubts, hopes, betrayal, sword-fights, romance and surprising reveals included! Enjoy reading!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Never getting any easier

**Author's Note:**

> I've really no idea what happened to my formatting... But the next chapter will look normal again, I hope :D

 

I awoke with a headache. Only after I really tried to remember, the memories came back in little fragments.

  
We had celebrated the Queen's second year of reign and the second anniversary of the royal marriage with a big feast and lots of drinks. And after both King and Queen had retired to 'go to bed early', we continued to feast. When there was literally no wine left any more, Gwaine proposed to go to The Rising Sun.

  
Judging by my headache, we did, but everything after the feast in the castle was a blur. It was kind of surprising that I was actually laying on my own bed in my room and not somewhere in the gutter or, this had happened once before, in the midst of the courtyard with mud all over my face and wet clothes. It had all been very embarrassing and, of course, none of my fellow knights remembered who had been with me that night or where I had been to get this dirty.

  
I rolled onto my back, fighting down the nausea, and, while massaging my temples, cursed Gwaine under my breath. It was, after all, his fault that I had the worst hangover ever.

  
Hopefully he was even worse than I was.

  
I stood up and staggered over to the table, where the wash-bowl stood. The cold water helped me to regain some of my senses, which was bad, because now every step hurt even more and the light coming from the small window was far too bright.

* * *

 

I skipped breakfast and walked to Gaius' instead, knowing he could provide me with something against headache and nausea. He didn't ask what I needed and had all the suitable herbs already sorted out, so I had the feeling that I wasn't the first to seek his aid or he foresaw that most of the knights would come to him in the course of the day.  
When it was lunch-time, I was hungry enough to go to the main hall to eat, expecting to meet the inseparables.

  
Today, though, I saw only Elyan and Percival. An almost gleeful smile crossed my face: Gwaine obviously was too groggy to be up yet. Serves him right, I thought, but I wondered where Leon was. It wasn't like him to miss a meal or sleep late. He was far too dutiful for that.

  
Elyan sat down on the bench next to me, but instead of digging into his food like he usually did, he turned to me with an apologetic look: "Have you heard about Leon?"

  
"No! What happened?", I asked in alarm.

  
"Nothing serious. On his way home he managed to stumble over his own feet and now he has a badly strained wrist. He won't be able to accompany us today. I know its your day off, but I was hoping you'd come along."

  
"Of course I'll come with you, I know how important this is for you both." I grinned and added, "But we really have to stop Gwaine from dragging us along to the tavern every time he wants a drink."

  
Elyan nodded, thanked me and then started to dig in like he hadn't seen food in a week.

  
Smiling to myself, I turned back to my own plate. I could eat just as much as he could and, despite having been made for many, the food tasted delicious.  
At least if you're hungry enough.

* * *

 

They left us at the edge of the woods to proceed alone. Elyan and Gwen had solemn faces and their eyes were full of memories, both good and bad. They walked arm in arm and took their time in getting up to the top of the hill.

  
I could just make out the siblings beside the small pile of stones marking their father's grave, two dark figures against the magnificent blue summer sky.

  
It reminded me of something I had managed to think of less and less over the months, but now it was present again.

  
"It never does get easier, does it?", I asked quietly.

  
Gwaine shrugged and after a little while said: "Don't think so. But you get used to live with the pain", he added after a moment.

  
Despite the warmth of the day, I shuddered, but then pushed the memories aside. It had been four years and a half, and there was no way of knowing what could've been or should've been.

  
I settled down on a fallen tree with eyes closed and turned my face so the sun could shine on it. It was quiet, except for the shuffling of the horses, the singing of the birds and the occasional bumblebee buzzing around.

  
It was one of those moment of peace that I had really come to cherish in the two years since the Southrons were driven out of Camelot. Things had taken a long time to quiet down, but now, finally, there were no fights in the near future that I could see, and until the events after which everything would go down in flames, one year was still to come.  
Suddenly water was poured all over my face. Coughing and spluttering, I opened my eyes in shock, though the laughing already betrayed the person who had, apparently, emptied the whole of his water skin over my unsuspecting face.

  
"Gwaine! What was that for?!", I exclaimed and tried so smooth my hair back into shape. It had grown in the last months and I had not yet thought of cutting it shorter again. Judging by the way it fell into my face when it got wet, I definitely should, or I would look like Gwaine in a few weeks. Horrible idea, I mused, and smiled up at him sweetly, fighting down the embarrassment of having been startled like that.

  
Then, before the knight had a chance to react, I jumped up and wrestled him to the ground. He fell down, but somehow I was sure it was out of surprise and not because of my strength. As always, within a few minutes he had the upper hand and finally pinned me down underneath him.

  
Percival, who was minding the horses, laughed in his own, special way and clapped mockingly.

 

Grinning widely, Gwaine stood up, extended his hand to me and said: "You really aren't getting any better at all!"

  
I was about to complain when he winked at me and gave me another smile, making an absurd little bow in the direction of Percival, who snorted in answer and gave his horse another apple.

  
Both of us panting, I resumed my place on the log and Gwaine lay down next to it on the ground, his arms behind his neck, smiling up at the sun.

* * *

 

I wasn't paying attention to the conversation until Gwen directly addressed me: "Tell me, William, has Gwaine told you anything of this new girlfriend?"

  
"What?", I asked and tried to piece together what I had missed, but couldn't. Even while I was thinking, a movement in the undergrowth caught my attention. Before I had time to warn the others, Saxons jumped out of the bushes, yelling at the top of their voices, their swords up high in the air. They looked like creatures out of nightmares.

  
We had an emergency plan for situations just like these at hand, so despite being surprised, we composed ourselves after a few dangerous seconds.

  
"Protect the Queen!", Elyan shouted while drawing his sword.

  
Percival, who had been next to Guinevere, forced her horse out of harm's way to the left, while Gwaine, Elyan and I blocked the Saxons' way to them.  
While knight and Queen escaped into the other direction, we took care of the assailants. It didn't take more than a few minutes before they lay fallen on the ground and we turned to follow Percival and Guinevere.

* * *

 

"We should have found them by now!", Elyan said, his concern obvious. He looked shaken and guilty, barely hiding his anger about himself and his concern for his sister.

  
"They definitely have gonequite a long way", Gwaine murmured, barely loud enough for me to hear. I nodded, carefully looking at the path as well as the woods at the side, just in case the had hidden alongside the road. As if our situation wasn't bad enough yet, it was getting darker every moment. Dusk was approaching fast.

  
"There!", Gwaine suddenly exclaimed and pointed ahead and a bit to the left.

  
Sure enough, there was Guinevere's horse standing next to a birch tree and, a few metres behind it, I could just make out a red cloak spread on the ground.

  
"Percival!"

* * *

 

It was a few minutes before midnight when we reached Camelot. Arthur, who had obviously anxiously awaited our return, rushed to the main gate as soon as we reached the courtyard: "What happened?"

  
It was fairly obvious what had happened, but still, none of us wanted to tell him or even meet his eyes.

  
"Elyan! What has happened?", Arthur repeated his question, his voice a mixture of command, plea, and fear.

  
Elyan shook his head.

  
"We lost the Queen, Sire", Gwaine finally admitted.


	2. Searching for the Queen

We had been riding for hours and, by now, were soaked through. The fair, warm weather had suddenly turned against us with heavy fog and cold rain, causing me to have another headache and really bad temper. The thin summer garments weren't enough at all to keep us warm. My cloak was weighting heavily on my shoulders.

No one felt like talking any more. We had started as soon as there was light, meaning, in the first rays of the sun we rode out of the castle yard, but of course we had been awake before that, getting dressed, packing provisions, and lots of other small things one only remembers a few minutes before actually starting on a quest.

With weary eyes I looked around, trying to pierce the fog, looking for anything that might pinpoint the Queen's location.

We had started under a clouded heaven, back where we had found Percival and Gwen's horse. Going from where we had lost her, we made circles, searching the ground and bushes for any sign of a person coming through. Percival, against Gaius' explicit advice, had joined us and, at first, this had seemed like a good thing, because he had found a simple, broken twig and even a shoe-print in the moss, a trace we could follow.

After two years of getting to know the knight's tracking abilities, I wholly trusted him to find her.

But after only two hours of sleep at average for us all, we were tired, short-tempered and stressed. As the hours went by, it became obvious that Percival's condition worsened. He was shivering even more than us, swaying gently when on horseback and barely able to walk when on ground. But still, he wouldn't stop dismounting and looking for the little, hidden hints where the Queen could've gone to, always finding a small sign of her, but getting weaker and paler every time he got back up on the horse.

Looking at Arthur's determined face, I wasn't too sure he would allow the knight to stop even if he wanted to.

When it got too dark to find any traces any more, we made camp. It was still raining, all the blankets were wet and even Merlin's hidden powers couldn't keep a fire burning for long, at least not without appearing suspicious.

* * *

 

It was a miserable night. I was exhausted and still felt hungover, but I never really slept, only dozed away for a few minutes, then snapped awake again at the slightest noise.

When I relieved Elyan from watch, I was almost thankful because now I could walk around to keep warm and stop to try forcing myself to sleep.

Percival was supposed to keep watch for the last two hours of the night, but when I walked over to wake him, he was asleep, and I hadn't the heart to wake him. He would need all his strength on the next day – or longer, if until then we hadn't found Gwen.

* * *

 

In the first light of the new morning, the rain finally stopped and the sun came out again, but she was weak and before our clothes had a chance to dry, she was hidden behind grey, dark clouds again.

* * *

 

We were getting on really slowly, Percival in the lead, dismounting time and time again to check if we were still on the right path, Arthur directly after him with a firm expression, Merlin, as always, beside him. Even he was less chatty than normally. Leon and Gwaine followed after them, and then Elyan and me. We were riding metres apart to survey a bigger area.

* * *

 

When another shower poured down on us, Percival turned round to Arthur and shook his head silently, finally admitting his defeat. He had lost the track and the rain had destroyed what little hope we should have lost the day before already.

For a moment, the King's eyes narrowed and I thought he might do something crazy, but then he hung his head, nodding. His command to turn back was almost too low to hear.

* * *

 

On the morning after the second night, halfway back to Camelot, Percival wouldn't wake up, no matter what Merlin tried. The knight's condition was alarming, but even though we tried to take him back to the citadel as fast as we could, we were forced to spend a third night in the woods, this time lucky enough to find a cave and escape another heavy downpour in the middle of the night.

* * *

 

Finally, four days after we set out, we returned to Camelot, weary, tired, with a sick knight and otherwise empty hands. The mood was more than just low, as one might imagine.

But, to our immense surprise and Arthur's unfathomable joy, Guinevere hastened over to us as soon as we rode into the castle yard. The Queen threw her arms around her husband's neck and kissed him, unusually unceremoniously compared to how she normally behaved, and he seemed to melt under her touch, smiling and laughing afterwards.

While Gwaine and Merlin hurried off to Gaius' with Percival on a stretcher, Elyan and I stayed with the King to hear Guinevere's story.

* * *

 

When the Saxons attacked us, she and Percival had turned in the other direction to escape. While fleeing, the knight had been pitched by his horse. When Gwen had stopped to check if he was all right, a stray Saxon had jumped her and taken her with him.

She had been his prisoner for two days, but, lucky for her, on his way back to his leader, they had run into a Camelot patrol.

It turned out that we must've passed them by closely on the third day, but due to the rain muffling most sounds and the ever returning, thick fog, we hadn't noticed them.

* * *

 

As soon as was convenient, I retreated to Gaius' chamber to retell the story to Merlin and Gwaine, both of whom had already been given a check-up by a worried Gaius, who thought that we might all fall ill, resembling a mother hen rather than a court physician, but we appreciated it.

In the end, only Arthur had a cold for a few days, blaming Merlin (who really hadn't done anything), and Gwaine stated he had a sore throat – but, as always, he cured himself with more than just one pint.

As Percival made a speedy recovery as soon as he was out of the rain and had been told Gwen was safely back, no serious harm had been done.

Well.

At least that's what I thought. Turns out I have never been so wrong.


	3. The Unthinkable Happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This is actually chapter 14 (total count), but after trying, thinking, rearranging and lots of frustrated blows upon my keyboard (which really hadn't done anything but trying to be helpful) I decided against writing chapter 13 at all and moved on to the next one – and I think it was for the best.

I laid the chain-mail on my bed, pulled off my shirt and slowly removed the bandages around my chest. Relief flooded in as I breathed in deeply. I ruffled through my hair – and froze in the midst of the movement when I heard the warning bell tolling. Almost simultaneously I heard several people moving quickly through the hallway. I pulled my shirt back on without taking the time to rearrange the bandages, and when the door to my chamber was thrown open with so much force that it banged against the wall with a loud thud, I was glad that I didn't.

“Leon! What happened?”, I asked the knight who had rushed in, attended by two other, younger knights I had barely ever talked to until now. Leon's face was pale and carefully blank.

“Are you William, Knight of Camelot?”

I flinched because of the demanding tone, formal style and absurdity of the question. It seemed like the temperature in the room suddenly dropped by a few degrees.

“What do you mean? You know who I am, Leon!”

“Answer the question. Are you William, Knight of-”

“Of course I am!”

Before I had the chance to ask what was going on, Leon made a step back and the knights that had accompanied him, to of the new ones, looking all serious and almost bursting with pride they were allowed to accompany Leon, walked over to me and, to my immense surprise, one of them gave me a push in the direction of the door.

“Walk”, he commanded.

I was so surprised I obeyed, but after a few steps managed to blurt out: “Who put you up to this? Look, it's not funny any more. Leon, stop this. You hear me?”

Leon, who was walking at the front, turned around: “You will keep quiet”, he ordered, and I bit my tongue in surprise. There was no trace of mockery around his face, only deadly seriousness. I felt fear sinking in, but refused to surrender myself to it.

While they walked me down the hallway, taking a turn left, I noticed the unwelcome movement my breasts made with every step I made. If anyone looked too closely at me, they would surely notice.

After another two bends, I knew where we were going: In the direction of the Council Dining Chamber.

“Leon?”, I repeated pleadingly, but he ignored me and kept walking briskly.

* * *

 

Finally we reached the door to the Chamber. Leon gave one sharp nod to the two guards standing there (whose presence were a sure sign something was badly wrong) and then pushed open the door. Like on a secret signal, the bell stopped ringing.

Every single member of the council had assembled. The inseparables, now joined by Leon, were standing beside the throne, which was empty, and on its other side stood Gwen, wearing a black dress. Gaius and Merlin were standing nearer to the door. While the warlock stared dead ahead, Gaius cast me a seriously worried look and shook his head at seeing my mute question about what was going on. I inhaled sharply, trying desperately to figure out why I had been escorted here.

The two knights walked me to the front and then, to my dismay, one of them pushed me down to my knees before the throne.

“What is - ?”, I asked, trying not to sound scared, but before I could even finish, Gwen moved forward, anger radiating off of her.

“You will keep quiet until I ask you a question and command you to speak!”

The Queen gestured to Gaius, who moved to the front. He was walking slowly, unwillingly almost, looking older than ever before, and gave me another look which this time I couldn't decipher the meaning of.

He turned to face to court: “I was called to the King's chambers late this afternoon and found the King with a high fever and sure signs of a poisoning. On examining him, I found that the poison had been administered not by food, but through a small cut on the King's right cheek. It seems to be a slowly working potion of unknown origin for which I have not yet found an antidote.”

While the physician spoke, my gaze wandered from his familiar face to that of Gwen. She was standing a little behind him, her expression unreadable, but she was unnaturally composed and appeared unusually quiet for someone who's beloved had been poisoned.

Gaius went back to his former place right next to Merlin, who still refused to look at me.

Gwen motioned to her brother next, who stepped forward and said: “I, amongst several of other knights, was witness to a training-duel this morning between the King and William, in which the aforesaid knight managed to inflict a small cut on the King's right cheek before being beaten.”

I let out a gasp of surprise, because now I knew what was going on: “Elyan, what - “

“Quiet!”, Gwen commanded, her voice as sharp as a razor. I looked into her eyes and realized the whole, terrible truth when I caught a hint of satisfaction on her face.

I felt my insides go numb. A little part of my mind protested against what was happening: This is the wrong order! It's too soon! Morgana should still be imprisoned or licking her wounds – she can't have gotten at Gwen.

But she had had a chance. When Guinevere had disappeared for three days, she had more than enough time to turn her. And she must have. Who – what – I was looking at now, wasn't Guinevere any more. She was Morgana's puppet. And now she was framing me for her attempt at taking Arthur's life.

“Did you or did you not, William, Knight of Camelot, cause said wound to my husband?”

“I did”, I answered honestly, unable to stop my voice from trembling. I should have known! I should have known, I should've...

“So you confess to having poisoned Arthur?”, she asked, her bottom lip trembling. She was definitely putting on a show, and by the obvious whispers between the court members, they believed their Queen wholeheartedly.

“I would never do that!”, I answered, though I knew that I was fighting a lost cause, as I had no evidence that I had nothing to do with the poisoning of the King. “I'm a loyal knight, my lady, you know that. I have never done anything but keeping the King save and protecting Camelot!”

Guinevere stared at me for what seemed like eternity without blinking once, then she whispered, her voice breaking with feelings she no longer really had: “So you never lied to us?”

I shook my head, my mind racing to discover what she might do next.

The Queen knelt down before me, still staring at me, and then, with one fast, unexpected move, she ripped my shirt open, yanked me upwards by my hair and turned me around, unmasking me in front of the whole court.

I heard the inseparables gasp, saw the disbelief in Percival's normally so unmoved face, and then heard the shouts of surprise from the court. Merlin finally looked at me, his eyes huge, his mouth standing open. When our eyes met, he looked to the side again. Gaius laid a hand on his wards shoulder for a moment, supporting him, though his own face was getting paler every minute.

“You never lied to us? You are not even who you said you were!”, Gwen murmured and then added, for good measure apparently, a thing between a sob and a scream, “How long have you planned to kill my husband?”

She let go of me and I fell to my knees, trembling uncontrollably, desperately trying to hold back my panicky tears.

Deciding she still hadn't had enough, the Hollow Queen stooped down to me and asked one last question, her voice, audible enough for everyone to hear, was feigned as a whisper:

“What did we ever do to you that you hate us so much?!”


	4. A Token of Friendship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my absolute favourite chapters in this story! I just loved writing it.

With one final, loud clattering the cell door closed. The Queen's last words echoed in my head: “You have been found guilty of the attempted assassination of the King, the penalty for which is death...”

Despite not wearing bandages, I had trouble breathing. Every time I inhaled, it felt like my throat was burning. I was barely able to stand, because my knees trembled badly, so I merely crawled over to the corner farthest from the door, trying to understand what had happened.

* * *

 

On my way downstairs to the cell, I had had a few, crystal-clear moments: The events definitely weren't happening in the right order, and not to the right people. Obviously my presence had done more harm than I had imagined. Not that I wished Tyr to be in my place, but still I would have appreciated not to have been sentenced to death.

It wasn't the first time, but it felt worse than ever before, because this time I had actually betrayed people I had called my friends. Not only had I lied to them, but I also had not succeeded in my plan to save Arthur.

Yesterday around this time I had been at the tavern with the inseparables, emptying one beaker with mead after the other, joking and laughing while trying to ignore Gwaine flirting with the barmaid and listening instead to Elyan talking about his newest lady friend. I had been Sir William of Camelot then, the inseparables' shadow, wearing a red cloak with the Pendragons' crest on it. Now, I was a nameless woman with a ripped shirt sitting in the corner of a cell, waiting for her execution.

The shaking wouldn't stop even after some time and tears were rolling down my cheeks incessantly.

Just my luck then.

* * *

 

Darkness crept into the cell gradually. I had been sitting without moving for what felt like hours, staring at nothing. In the silence of the dungeons, a thought had returned to haunt me: I was as bad as Morgana. I had meddled with this world. I wanted to change it for the better, but instead I lost control over everything. There was no telling what my presence had done to the legend, what changes I had made without noticing. You can want the right thing and try to achieve it with all the wrong measures. Was this a quote? I wasn't sure. Not any more. Not about anything. Maybe this was what I deserved: Punishment for having been so self-righteous as to believe I could actually do something to change Arthur's destiny.

The council may have been right. I wasn't fit for the job.

What a difference a day made, I thought, grimaced and started crying again when I realized I was in the same cell in which I had befriended Gwaine and Gaius.

* * *

 

I must've slept for some time, because I woke with a start when I heard the cell door opening. It took me several seconds to realize where I was, and before I could move, someone pressed a hand to my mouth to stop me from screaming. Then I heard a familiar voice: “It's me, Will.”

Gwaine's face was only dimly lit by the torches that were burning in the corridor, but I stopped struggling instantly.  
He removed his hand from my mouth and rose, extending the hand to me to help me up: “We don't have much time. Come on!”

* * *

We reached the metal gate at the end of the tunnel just when the bell started tolling. Startled, Gwaine looked round, but the tunnel behind us was quiet and only lit by our own torch, so hopefully no one knew where we had gone to. Not yet, anyway.

It was ridiculous that this time the warning bell was marking my flight from the dungeons, that it was my fault the knights dressed as quickly as they could, ready for anything. I knew what it felt like to be woken in the middle of the night by this bell, knowing that anything could be happening and that maybe, one would not live to see the light of day.

Gwaine fumbled with the lock and I heard the rattling of keys before the grille opened and I vaguely wondered where he had got the keys from.

I followed the knight out into the forest, a few hundred metres away from the castle. Our escape route had been one of the ways Merlin used to get out of the citadel without being seen. I had seen him emerge from this tunnel so often in the series it actually felt familiar.

Gwaine turned round to me, a haunted expression on his face as he stared back to the castle. I could hear people shouting in the distance and torches flickering, but my thoughts were occupied by something else.

“Gwaine, look, I can explain, I...”

“Don't”, he interrupted me, grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to a cluster of bushes to get more cover.

“Please, just give me a minute, I beg you, I need you to know...”

He squeezed my hand with so much force I stopped on my own accord and said, without looking at me, “You misunderstood me. There is no need for you to explain. I know.”

I stared at him in disbelief and after a few moments, he turned around, his face close to mine, and added: “I've known something was going on for quite some time, but it was only today that I learned all about what and how much you did.”

“Gaius told you.” It wasn't a question, it was a statement, and I wasn't sure if I should feel betrayed or relieved that Gwaine, who was – well, that he finally knew.

“He had to. After I told him I wanted to bust you out of the dungeons, he filled in the blanks I hadn't figured out for myself yet.”

“How long did you know I was lying about something?”

With an unusually serious face he said: “Our first day in the cells. I wasn't sure if you had been hurt and when I examined you, I found..” he gestured to my upper body. Even though he had given me his shirt to cover me, I was feeling naked.

Blushing deeply, I asked: “Was this all you found out on your own?”

“I don't think we have time for that now, Will”, he whispered, but continued nonetheless: “When I woke up at Gaius', I remembered vivid dreams about you visiting me, talking about strange things I didn't fully understand. I didn't thought much of them until I found this, though.”

He grabbed my hand again, thrust something into it, and gave it another squeeze.

“There's not much time left now, Will.”

A tiny smile appeared on his face, but it didn't reach his eyes. After two years, I knew every expression of his, so I knew he was saying goodbye.

It was like someone had punched me in the stomach, because this expression made everything real. I had to leave Camelot if I wanted to survive, and staying here to get killed wasn't an option, not after everything the knight had risked to get me out of the dungeons.

Suddenly I realized even more. He had known I was alone and desperate, he had known I was a woman, an impostor, and he must have guessed that I wouldn't survive long without someone having my back, so he decided to become my friend. It was me who told him everything, and he had somehow made me his responsibility, becoming my anchor and protector. And I had continued to lie to him every single day.

“Gwaine, I...”

With a sudden movement, the knight threw his arms around me. Hugging me tightly, he whispered in my ear: “Thank you for all you've done, Will, for trying to save us.” I clang to him, sure he could feel how fast my heart was beating.

“I'm sorry I can't do more to repay you”, he added, and then loosened my arms from around him.

He made a step back and stared at me for a few moments, so intensely as if he was trying to memorize the way I looked. I was sure I saw tears glinting in his eyes. Then he leant toward me one more time, pressed a kiss to my forehead, drew back and then, just like that, without another look back, he was inside the escape tunnel, closing the shutter, rattling with the keys, and then he was gone.

Torches moved around in the woods, getting ever closer to me. If I didn't start to run now, the knights would have me surrounded within minutes.

Only when I brought my hand up to my face to wipe over my tear-streaked face did I remember that Gwaine had given me something. Through the veil of tears before my eyes I looked at it and gasped: This was why he had stared at me so hard, taking in the way I looked, because he knew he would never see me again, but he thought this better than seeing me imprisoned and hanged. He did what he had done from the moment he decided I was his responsibility and now he had given me one last token of his friendship, a safe way out.

I had no idea where he might have found it or how long he had hold on to it for me. I had been sure it was lost, but instead it had been evidence everything I had told him when he was at Gaius' could be real. And after the physician had told him everything, he had decided to return it to me.

The thing he had given me was my necklace.


	5. The Disir

I watched them until they were out of sight. I hadn't seen them in months, only four times in all within the last year, and there was not a day that went by without me missing them. It was like I was torn from the second world I had felt at home in, only this time it was worse, because I was still there. In theory I was only hours away from Camelot. In reality, I was an outcast who would be hanged if I ever made my way back to the citadel. But still, I was responsible for the mess I created, and I wanted to set it right. I needed to set it right. I needed to know my friends were save before I left this world for good.

The necklace Gwaine had returned to me was safely hidden in one of the pockets of my dress. I hadn't tried to put it on, afraid I would be sucked out of this world right away (maybe there was a council's member who would push some buttons and I would be back for questioning before I could say 'Camelot'). Additionally, I wasn't able to look at it without feeling lost and alone, so I almost never took it out. Especially not at nights, when I was constantly afraid of being attacked by some mythical beast or, even worse, a man. Now that I was back to being a woman (hoping this would give me extra protection, in case they were still looking for William) I felt vulnerable.

Especially while watching my friends disappear between the trees.

While I had waited for them to return to Camelot, I had almost run into Gwaine and Percival, who had been talking worriedly about Mordred. Even the mere mention of that name made my skin crawl. The knight had joined Arthur's army a few weeks after I had fled from the citadel, and until now, I had never seen him.

He was younger than I pictured him in my mind, smiling, boyishly, beardless, and, apparently, best friends with the inseparables. I felt jealous the moment I saw him, feeling like he had taken my place with them, but then I pushed the thought aside. For all they knew, I was a liar and an impostor, and for the one who knew the truth, he believed me to have withdrawn to my own world. It was somehow natural they would forget me or stop talking about me after more than a year. Maybe they even pretended I never existed.

* * *

 

I hadn't been sure what to do after I fled the castle. I only knew I would not leave my friends now. Maybe there was still a chance that by withdrawing and stopping to meddle with the King and his court directly, I might be able to stop my presence to mess with the time line any more. It had seemed like the only possible choice anyway, seeing that I wouldn't be able to return to the city and live to tell the tale.

The only person who knew about me staying was Gaius. It took me a lot of pleading with an unknowing tinker (I had no money at all with me then), but the man was kind and thought me a wretched beggar, so he delivered a letter of explanation to the physician.

Gaius had sent me word three times about how things were going at the castle – the last time deeply worried about the Disir's message to Arthur. Only when I read the name, I remembered the creepy messengers of the triple goddess and formed part of a plan in my mind.

After all, I had an important question to ask of them. With a bit of luck, they might just answer it.

* * *

 

I entered the Disir's cave carefully and slowly. I had left my sword outside, and without its familiar weight on my waist, I felt even more naked than before. I had to watch my step because the ground was uneven, and mind my head because of all the magic-sacred-thingys hanging from the cave ceiling. I was careful not to disturb them.

The deeper I got in, the colder it got, and I was soon shivering in my thin dress, wishing to be back outside in the unusually warm spring sun.

Finally I reached the mouth of the tunnel, where it widened into a cave. It took me quite some time to discern the dark-blue clad women in the semi-darkness. They were standing together in one corner, in almost inaudible conversation with each other.

If they were noticing my presence, they ignored it.

I stood in awkward silence until suddenly one of them made a strange, sniffling sound (not unlike the one the ring-wraiths made in Lord of the Rings) and they turned around in perfect unison, so fast I could hardly believe it. I couldn't see much of their faces, only their mouths, the rest was shadowed by their hoods. The one on the left showed her teeth and it looked more like the snarl of an animal and not much like a human facial expression.

“Who are you?”, the one on the right asked, clutching her staff tightly.

“My name is... Was William of Camelot”, I answered, not because I wanted to lie to them, but because the question took me by surprise. After all, the goddess was praised as the one knowing everything, wasn't she?

“You speak the truth”, the one in the middle murmured and added, like she had an afterthought, “but you are also dishonest.”

“What brings you here?”, another one asked.

I made a bow, feeling like it was expected of me, and said: “I have a question I need answered.”

“We will answer your question, but only if you answer ours in return.”

I nodded my agreement, wondering what they wanted to know of me, when the left hooded figure, who had kept her silence until now, hissed: “Tell us what you have in your pocket, 'William'.”

Somehow her voice differed from the other two, and when she pointed to me, her fingers were shaking.

In reflex, I raised my hand to the necklace.

Funnily enough, a tiny voice in my head screamed 'we hates it forever!', remembering another thing hidden in a pocket. The thought distracted me, so it took me a few seconds to answer the question.

“It's a device that enables one to move between different universes.”

“It is surrounded by strange magic. Very powerful magic”, she muttered, as if to herself, and then pointed at me again: “Give it to us.”

“You haven't answered my question yet!”

“It does not belong here. Give it to us”, they repeated, speaking as one.

It took me the length of two heartbeats to decide. I handed the necklace over, then made another bow, wondering if I had just given away my only save way out of this world.

The three women all inspected the necklace thoroughly before turning back to me.

“So it is you”, one of them exclaimed, clearly outraged, pointing an accusing finger toward me, “who has double-crossed the goddess' biddings! You who clouded our vision for this long!”

“You do not belong here”, the left one added. Her voice had a menacing edge.

Then, like they were chanting, they all spoke in unison again, the cave echoing with their voices: “The goddess knows all. She sees all. She provides for all who live the ways of the old religion. And we are the ones who serve her. We carry out her orders. We speak her judgement.”

There were moments of uncomfortable silence after this outburst. Then the one in the middle hissed: “Ask your question, girl.”

“Is Mordred destined to kill Arthur or is their another way?”, I asked, my voice quivering, because I was sure that I already knew the answer. But I needed to try anyway, I needed to give him a chance. Maybe there was a way how I could not only save Mordred and Arthur, but also myself.

The woman on the right threw the necklace at my feet without making a sound, and the cloaked figure in the middle said, with her voice back to emotionless: “The magic you have brought into our world is strong, but is it stronger than the greatest destiny of all? The goddess has seen into the future and has judged your beloved King. He has but one chance to escape his fate, but even now that you are here, he is on the edge of sealing it forever. Do you really believe you could save him? Save your friends? Save Camelot? You can't even save yourself!”

The one on the left started talking the second the woman in the middle closed her mouth: “You call yourself tale-changer, but you do not know what you did to this world. It is unravelling because of you. Either you leave for good, or stay here and see its destruction. You are powerless. There is nothing you can do.”

“Nothing! Nothing!”, the other two echoed. And then they started to laugh, a horrible, crazy laugh which echoed from the cave walls and repeated itself over and over again. Suddenly I was sure I heard four women laugh, not only three, and felt like someone was forcing their way directly to my heart with the intention of crushing it.

I stooped, picked up my necklace, turned and ran. I fled as fast and far as I could, not caring any more about stumbling and falling in the cave or disturbing the magic thingys. The sun was gone by the time I crawled out of the cave, but still I felt the urge to get away from there. I stopped only when my legs gave way beneath me. I collapsed against a tree somewhere in the middle of the woods, in total darkness.

_This world is unravelling. There is nothing you can do._


	6. Sudden Movement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: This chapter is bad. I mean, really bad. As in bad stuff happens. And it is slightly longer than the others too... - I apologize in advance!

I opened the door to the shed and upon entering was greeted with the by now familiar smell of goat and cow droppings, animal fur, hay and straw. The calm-looking, white goat (which in secret I called Percy), stared at me through its creepy, slit pupils, but by now I had gotten used to that, too.

While I started to milk Percy, I closed my eyes and wished myself to be somewhere else. Don't misunderstand me: Staying with the old, widowed farmer's wife, her cow, goat, and chickens was a huge step up from sleeping in the woods (or rather, not sleeping), but still, I wished – well, anything but this.

At least I was able to sleep near a fire in the night (I even had two blankets, a sure sign the woman was very fond of me by now), feeling safer than I had for months. But even though people in the small village were friendly enough to an 'orphaned' girl, more than willing to work for something to eat and somewhere to sleep in the night, I still feared for something to happen. I woke every night trembling after another nightmare. More often than not those included staff-holding figures, shadows moving in the dark, eyes flashing gold, mouths speaking without anything attached to them and dark caves full of cackling laughter, remembering me time and time again that I was a constant danger to everything, especially the townsfolk.

But I would've gone crazy if I'd stayed out in the woods for another day.

I carried the bucket, half-filled with Percy's milk, to the door and opened it. I made about three steps when something or someone knocked me over forcefully. I had a split second to think I'm going to spill the milk before I hit the ground and everything went black.

* * *

 

I awoke to confusion and a splitting headache. It took me several seconds to figure out how to open my eyes and even longer until I was able to process what I saw.

The house in which I had stayed for almost three months was burning. The shed was nothing more than blackened walls by now, and I vaguely wondered what had happened to Percy. The whole village was devoured by flames. I could see people running around, trying to extinguish the flames, dark figures against the red. They were obviously fighting a lost cause, though.

I sat up carefully and when there was no feeling of dizziness, I stood up, wondering what had happened and what had set the houses aflame.

It didn't take long for me to find out. The moment I was standing, I felt something which felt rather familiar pressed to my back. Someone hissed: “I wouldn't move now if I were you, girl.”

Frozen with shock, I stayed where I was.

I heard people laugh, then the neighing of a horse, and then riders, I counted thirty in all, galloped in the direction of the people trying to save their houses. I saw swords, heard screams and found that I couldn't watch what happened, so I closed my eyes.

It felt like a long time had passed in which there was nothing but the smell of smoke, screams of terrified people running, screams of terrified people being captured, screams of terrified people being cut down.

Despite all what had happened to me in this world until now, this was the worst moment of them all, because I wasn't able to do anything. At least it's not your fault now, a tiny voice in my head whispered, making me feel even more useless, tiny and frightened.

In retrospect I guess I could've tried something. I had, after all, been a knight for quite some time, and had gotten out of worse situations than this before. It wasn't the first time someone held a sword to my back, either. But all I could do was cry, tremble, concentrate on not fainting and keep breathing.

And then finally it was over.

The men on the horses reappeared. Their faces were flushed, most of them were laughing. At least one of them was sitting on his horse like he was really drunk or hurt badly; one horse was riderless. But the townsfolk were, for all I knew, all dead.

I felt the sword-tip move, but before I could try anything (which would certainly have resulted in me being killed) the man holding the sword moved to stand directly in front of me. He was a head shorter than me, bald, with a shaggy beard, bad teeth, which showed because he was smiling greedily, and filthy clothes. The way he looked at me sent a shiver down my spine.

Before he could say anything, though, one of the riders, a tall man with his sword still dripping blood, walked over. It was obvious by the way shaggy-beard cringed before him that he was the leader of the gang and, as I realised in this moment, the only thing standing between me and... who knew what.

He seized me up carefully, keeping a straight face, taking his time, and then nodded at his minion. Shaggy-beard tied my hands in front of me and then dragged me toward the horses where, as I now could see, four other girls from the village were standing too. I felt the need to comfort them in some way, but couldn't think of anything. My insides had gone numb.

* * *

 

A day passed. Another one. Then a week. Another week. The gang was on the run, and they liked it. Whenever they found a village small enough, they attacked; preferably, as they did in the village I had come from, in the early morning hours when nobody expected an attack. Sometimes they took other women, sometimes they didn't. We had to walk on foot, guarded by four men with swords and bows. In the nights they tied us to trees, so tightly it was hard to sleep at all. Sometimes the leader came and took a woman with him. Sometimes she didn't return. More than once his glance passed over me and then moved on. It was always someone else he took with him, and I was glad about it. I knew it was disgusting to feel this way, even then, but I couldn't help it.

After a while I stopped counting the days and reduced my thoughts and my whole being to simply exist and stay that way till the next morning.

* * *

 

I awoke with a start in the middle of the night, feeling exhausted and cold. I tried to pierce the fogginess in my head to remember what had woken me. Then I heard the sound again: A soft tinkling sound, which was familiar, then a snap, giving me another hint. Then nothing for a few seconds. I sat up and listened concentrated, staring into the darkness with wide eyes, not wanting to miss anything. And then all hell broke loose.

The night was suddenly alight with torches and people yelling. The bandits were taken by surprise and I felt some kind of deep satisfaction in me that they got what they deserved.

The women around me were screaming in surprise or fear and tried to get loose, but I knew the knots were tied expertly and the ropes were too thick to damage them without a weapon.

I knew that from many a night's experience.

We were tied to trees some way off the camp, as usually, but after a few minutes I heard people coming. They had found us. The guards tried to flee, but were killed within minutes.

In the torchlight I saw swords glittering and chain-mail shirts. Then I saw a red cloak with a golden dragon emblazoned on it.

My heart skipped a beat and then started to beat wildly. I knew they were going to free us – but was someone with them I knew? Merlin? Arthur? Or someone else?

But I spotted nobody I knew. Coming to think of it, it was only logically none of them were on their way to free prisoners. They would be where the battle was thickest, naturally.

* * *

 

It wasn't hard to get away from the small group of wailing, crying women, expressing their thanks in wordiness or just sitting by the trees in shock. I slipped away at the first convenient moment, because I didn't want to run into any of my former friends. I couldn't bear to imagine what they would think of me if they found me here, like this. Getting imprisoned again to finally get executed would definitely be the option I'd rather chose than to see Gwaine's despising look on me.

* * *

 

I trekked for half a day to the south, brining as much land as possible between the Camelot patrol and me. I passed a landmark on the way and knew that I was in Odin's land now. My heart sunk at the thought of having left Camelot after all, but otherwise I was feeling better with every step I took. The exhaustion was gone, my headache bearable, and the pure feeling of freedom was enough to get over part of my past experiences and keep me going.

My subconscious would surely add new images to my nightmares, though, but still, I was free.

I reached a broad stream and after drinking until I was full, dipped my head in. The water was cold, but refreshing. I looked down at my ripped dress, shrugged and pulled it over my head to at least try and get some of the filth out of it. Then I washed myself and felt wonderful afterwards.

The sun was warm enough to dry off the dress within an hour, so I could pull it on again and took up my walk once more, this time following the stream.  
When I ran across a bush with berries, I stopped and ate them, slowly, one at a time. They were sweet and juicy, and while I ate I was at the brink of tears just because they tasted so good.

I made camp at the side of the river this night and, despite having feared for nightmares, slept soundly through it out of mere exhaustion. The next morning I resumed my walk at a brisk pace while trying not to think about my lack of destination.

After an hour of walking, while I stopped to appease my thirst, I suddenly noticed movement on the other side of the stream. I jumped up, ready to start running – but stopped the moment I saw who had made the movement.

A number of feelings were crossing his face within moments after seeing me. In the end, he simply looked confused and unsure of what his own eyes were telling him.

“Will?!”

We stood like this for what felt like eternity – I on the one end of the stream, Merlin on the other.


	7. Straight Into A Trap

Wondering if I was supposed to stay or run, I stared at the warlock. Another minute passed. Then he made a movement like he wanted to cross the stream, but was stopped by someone calling his name. I knew the voice, it was Gaius', and he sounded impatient.

The gangly young man seemed to remember what he had come to the stream for, knelt down and filled an empty skin of water without taking his eyes off of me, but neither of us seemed to know what to say. Or do.

When Gaius called again, Merlin slowly turned and walked away without looking back. It was obvious he was giving me a choice either to go or to follow him. How much had Gaius told him? Or Gwaine? They were close, but had the knight told anyone what he had done for me that night? He must believe me to have left this world, so what would be the harm in telling Merlin? But somehow I doubted Gwaine had spoken to anyone about that.

My heart was beating faster with every moment. A battle was raging inside me – they were so close. I should go to them. I wanted to go to them. But I couldn't. Or could I? Should I?

In the end, the longing got the better of me. I could surely risk a quick glance without being spotted, to make sure they were okay. I wondered what they were doing in Nemeth and why they were dragging Gaius along: The old man left the castle so rarely since Merlin had come to Camelot it must have been something special to have him here, in enemy country. And they way he had sounded, something had definitely gone wrong.

* * *

 

I thought I knew what was going on when I saw the ruins, but on a second, closer look, I was at a loss. Merlin was all right, walking around, fetching things for Gaius. I caught him looking around every few minutes, trying not to appear suspicious, but, as we all well know, that's not one of Merlin's strengths. Luckily no one was paying him much attention.

Gaius was working on someone lying on the ground, hidden behind one of the crumbled walls from my sight. Apart from Merlin and Gaius, the place was empty but for Leon, who was shifting his weight from one foot to the other, looking alarmed. My heart clenched at the thought who might be the patient, so I decided to move around the ruin carefully to get a better look. I moved slowly, deliberately, so as not to snap a single twig on the earth or brush against any bush and create a sound which might give away my position.

“Leon”, I heard Gaius say in his calm, commanding physician-voice, “we need some more firewood, please.”

Leon, appearing to be happy to be of use, left the ring of crumbled walls and walked over to the wood to gather sticks. Naturally, he was coming directly at me.

I tried to move back as quickly and quietly as possible, but as I was trying to look behind me at the same time as keeping an eye on the knight, I tripped over a tree root and fell, creating more noise than necessary to alarm Leon.

If we had been on Camelot's soil, he would've called out something like: 'Who goes there? Reveal yourself!', as I had heard him do on more than a few occasions, but we were in Nemeth and, if I was piecing the story together correctly, on the way to rescue King Rodor. Or something like that, at least, so he drew his sword very slowly instead, looking around anxiously and then starting to move forward, one step at a time.

It wasn't so much a decision I made but a hunch I was following: I stood up again, wincing slightly since I had hurt myself in falling, and simply said: “Leon.”

The knight started at his name, hurrying over to where I stood, his sword raised, ready to fight. I still think it was impressive how his grip on the sword never wavered once he saw me, even though his eyes showed how surprised he was.

“I'm here to help”, I continued, raising my hands to signal surrender.

The knight stared at me without lowering his sword and I vaguely wondered if that would keep happening whenever I met any of my former friends: Staring without saying anything.

But maybe this was how I would've reacted, too, if it had been the other way round?

“The Queen gave order to kill you on sight”, he finally managed, his weapon still hovering between us, by now closer to my chest than I would have liked.

I nodded and waited for him to decide on what to do – it was too late to run, and I had suspected Gwen to say something like this, being under Morgana's spell and everything.

“Leon! What's taking you so long?” Merlin was making his way through the wood, coming ever closer to us. The moment he reached us, Leon lowered the sword. He was looking tired, like he had fought a difficult battle and wasn't happy with the outcome.

The warlock didn't so much as acknowledge my presence, but gestured back to the ruins: “Gaius really needs more wood.”

Leon nodded, gave me a wary look, and then resumed the task of gathering firewood.

Meanwhile, Merlin gave me one of his smiles (until then I hadn't known how much I'd missed them).

“You should come back with me.”

* * *

 

Gaius only raised an eyebrow when he saw Merlin returning with me, but didn't say anything about my sudden appearance, and he wasn't staring either. Instead, he gestured to the man lying in the corner: “Do you have an idea what is happening?”

My eyes darted over to Merlin: “Gaius has told me about who you are.”

I couldn't suppress a sigh, not sure if it was one out of relief or disappointment, and knelt down beside Elyan, who was lying motionless, seemingly unconscious. The knight was breathing shallow and uneven and his face was ashen.

“I think I do know”, I answered Gaius, and then explained, in low tones and as short as I could about Mithian, the fake 'Hilda' and the trap waiting for Arthur. I also added my guess how Mithian had tried to warn the King through Elyan, who had been bewitched by Morgana. I also described what Gaius had done to heal Merlin in the original story-line.

The warlock, who was listening with rapt attention, thought intently for a few minutes after I had finished before he knelt down beside me and whispered something with a solemn face.  
I had never before looked at him directly when he performed a spell, and realised with a shudder how different he looked when he was doing magic. Almost like he was two different persons, I mused, and then, when Elyan made a low groan, I shook the thought and tore my gaze away from Merlin.

Gwen's brother blinked against the light, confused, and then his gaze steadied itself on Merlin's face: “We need to get to Arthur. He's walking straight into a trap!”


	8. At least One of Them

Elyan got up, wincing because he was obviously in pain, but he stopped dead when he noticed me. Than, much to my surprise and delight, his face lit up while he exclaimed: “You're back!” Next moment, he hugged me, almost dragging me down to the ground with him.

I would never have expected this reaction from Elyan, especially since his sister had sentenced me to death.

“I always knew it couldn't have been you”, he grinned and then, remembering that there was something more important than catching up to do, he stood up, swaying from side to side for a moment, and though he said: “I'm all right”, we continued to stare at him worriedly.

Meanwhile Leon had returned. I was pretty sure he was more than a bit relieved to see Elyan up and about, but his mind was already occupied with the problem at hand: “What do you mean, a trap?”

“I'll explain it while we walk”, Elyan exclaimed and gestured to the woods: “We really need to hurry.”

* * *

 

Elyan explained what had happened to him in a few sentences – but it wasn't the way I expected things to be. By now, this wasn't surprising me any more. Things had a tendency to go sideways since the day I got here, so why shouldn't they now.

Elyan told us how Hilda had spoken to him in private, warning him of a trap for Arthur and the knights and urging him to arrest Mithian, who was in reality Morgana, but before he had made it back to camp, he had been attacked by Mithian, or rather, Morgana, using her powers to keep him from talking.

* * *

 

Gaius had stayed at the ruins so that we could move faster. Leon had given him his spare sword, but the old physician had handed it over to me without a word. The knight had looked like he wanted to protest, but when Elyan again told us to hurry up, Leon had given in, but while we walked, he kept glancing back at me with a wary expression.

I felt the need to ask Elyan why he was so happy to see me, so I caught up with him and asked: “Why would you think that I am innocent?” I felt my upper lip quiver. “I even fled from the dungeons... Wouldn't you say that was confession enough I was guilty?”

Elyan slowly shook his head and answered: “Gwen was far too distraught over Arthur's poisoning to think straight, and I know we too had been sparring that day and you cut me, but I was feeling great. I tried to tell her, but she never listened.” He made a pause and then added thoughtfully: “Normally she does.”

I gave him a curious look, wondering whether he had noticed something off about her.

“I was relieved you made it out of the cells. I doubt even after Arthur got better a few days later that Gwen would've revoked the sentence.”

I said nothing, in case he would also speak about the fact that I was a woman, but before he could, Leon called his name. Elyan slapped me on the back and gave me a genuine smile which I returned, hoping he could see the relief that at least one of the knights still believed in me in my eyes, and then he hurried over to Leon.

Merlin, who was now walking beside me, kept asking questions in a barely audible whisper. He wanted to know where I had been, what I had been doing, why I was in Nemeth, but I couldn't answer any of them. After a while, he fell silent, and I could see him look at me time and time again. He was looking worried, with this special Merlin expression which said: I need to find a way to fix you. I didn't know why it bothered me so much, but I wanted him to stop thinking this way. He had enough trouble already, and adding my sanity or well-being to keeping Arthur save (this was, after all, his destiny) felt wrong, but I wasn't sure how to tell him to stop. Or if I really wanted him to.

* * *

 

It happened by pure accident – neither of us was sure of the way any more, and without Percival (who was the best tracker, on whom we normally relied), we had to walk more after what our guts told us than what we knew (especially since it just so happens that Percival also is great on covering tracks), but we had luck and ran across a track that no one had felt the need to hide. We all agreed that this might be Odin's men – since Odin had seized Nemeth, there was no need to hide, except from Arthur, but as the false Mithian was directing his every step to Lothar's tomb, they wouldn't have taken this route.  
We followed the track as fast as possible, with our swords drawn and ready for action at any second. I expected a stray soldier or a whole score of Odin's men to suddenly jump out of the underbrushes, but again, we were lucky.

We stopped feeling that way the moment Merlin caught sight of something red lying in a blackberry thicket some way off the track. It was one of Arthur's knights. He had been killed by several blows with a sword and then simply left behind. They didn't even make sure if he was dead, as was obvious by a track of blood leading away from the trail. He had still been alive and tried to get out of sight, get more cover under the thicket, or maybe he was looking for help, but in the end he had had no chance. I didn't know him, but Merlin, Leon and Elyan did. They looked shaken, but continued to press on, since we had no time to loose.

Not long after we found three other knights, all dead. “They were slaughtered”, Merlin managed to say after he had examined them hurriedly, “and look”, he pointed to their wrists, which were tied together, “they had already taken them as prisoners. They killed them after they had surrendered.”  
The warlock, whose face was pale, rose to his feet. We stood beside the bodies for a few seconds and then, like one man, we started moving again, even faster than before.

* * *

 

It wasn't long till we could hear people, not far before us. We moved to the side of the path instantly to get more cover and followed them, even more carefully.

To my right it looked like the earth suddenly stopped. There was a steep decent which abruptly turned into a cliff about a hundred meters farther on. A long way down I could see a river and – a sentence popped into my head: The tomb lies just east of the river.

On my sharp intake of breath, Merlin turned around and looked enquiringly at me.

I gestured to the ruin we could just about see through the foliage of trees. His eyes widened.  
Turning, he grabbed hold of Elyan's arm: “Look! It's the tomb!”

“But the patrol is turning to the west”, the Knight whispered, “what if Arthur and the others are with them, too?”

“Arthur will be at the tomb”, I said with certainty, “Odin will want to deal with him personally and Morgana is leading them there.”

“We'll split up”, Leon decided. “I'll follow the patrol and you'll go to the tomb.”

“Are you sure?”, I asked worriedly. He stared at me with a puzzled expression, like he still wasn't sure whose side I was on. I didn't blame him, but I wished it could be like it was before. Leon had always trusted me, earlier than Elyan or Percival. But this was more than a year ago, something inside me whispered.

“I am sure”, he simply answered and then turned away before anyone could say goodbye.

* * *

 

We finally reached the tomb. It was bigger than I expected, a big building, made out of square stone-blocks covered with moss. In front of the entrance two soldiers were standing guard, but shortly after we arrived, they were distracted by a couple of bushes moving without any wind going – just like magic.

Merlin, on noticing my raised eyebrow, gave me a proud grin.

It wasn't hard to knock the two guards out when they moved past our hiding place.

Then we entered the Lothar's tomb.


	9. Too faint to Catch

The air inside the tomb was pleasantly cold compared to the outside, but smelling of decay. A shiver went down my spine while we slowly moved forward – the tunnel was very narrow and more than once I had the feeling the ceiling was only inches from my head. But I couldn't make sure how high it really was, as we had not dared to light a torch and moved in absolute darkness, feeling our way along the walls, and I wasn't courageous enough to raise my hand and feel for the ceiling.

Then we saw light ahead, the flickering of at least one torch, and heard people talking, unintelligible at first, but then clearer and clearer, until I was able to discern Arthur's voice, and felt relief flooding in. We weren't too late, the King was still alive.

_“My fathers life – that wasn't enough?”_   
_“No.”_

Elyan, who was walking in the front, suddenly came to a halt: “Wait”, he whispered, and continued on alone to risk a glance into the burial chamber.

_“Camelot is nothing without it's king.”_

_“Then you don't know my knights. They will hunt you. And they will find you. And they will not rest until they're done.”_

He's damn right about that, I thought and gritted my teeth. It was strange to hear Arthur say these words – and even stranger how proud I suddenly felt. A few hours with my friends had been enough to make me feel part of their group again, part of Camelot's knights. Fighting for the King, for Camelot, to protect what was worth protecting...

_“I will deal with your knights soon enough – but now your time has come.”_

With an angry roar, not bothering to give us any warning, Elyan stormed into the burial chamber and out of our sight.

“Don't!”, I managed to shout, but even while I did so, I was after him, my sword drawn. We reached the chamber and instantly were met by several of Odin's men, wildly brandishing their swords.  
The only good thing in Elyan's rash move was their surprise at our sudden appearance. Before I really knew what was happening, I retreated together with Percival, who had managed to shake off his captors and had taken the sword of a fallen man, closer to one of the walls, slashing and hacking away, but the men just kept coming. We were outnumbered four to one.

Then I saw, out of the corner of my eye, a familiar, gangly shape at the entrance of the chamber, quickly retreating. I braced myself for something extraordinary to happen – but nothing did. Meanwhile, I felt my arm getting heavier and my concentration wavered. I hadn't trained properly for forever, and more than once only narrowly avoided being hit. Percival noticed my desperate situation, even though he too had his hands full with fighting off yelling men, and he moved closer to me, until we stood fighting back to back.

In the middle of fighting, it always is hard to keep up to what is happening to anyone but oneself, so I only knew that suddenly I could breathe again and that there were no men coming any more. Stunned, I turned around (I had faced the wall opposite of the entrance before).

“What took you so long?”, Arthur scolded Merlin, who was standing next to him. The warlock grinned boyishly and, though he was breathing heavily and his face looked flushed, he answered: “I wanted to give you a chance to prove you could do without me – but obviously you can't.”  
“Merlin”, Arthur said, but he wasn't sounding pissed, just tired and more than a bit relieved.

Only when I saw Leon hurrying over to greet Percival, I realised that the knights who had been taken by Odin's patrol had joined us – and I wondered if Merlin had gone and brought them here really fast, or if he had stopped the time in the chamber, as he had done so long ago when he saved Gaius, back when he first arrived in Camelot. Odin was being held in one corner by two of the knights, waiting for the King to deal with him. He was fighting to get loose, but the men held him firm.

Suddenly Arthur, who had been talking to Merlin in hushed tones, looked in my direction, and I jumped, startled and felt my heart skipping a beat. I tried to compose myself, though, walked over to the King and made a low bow, and stayed in that position, waiting for him to give me permission to speak... or run me through with his sword. Who knew what Gwen had told him.

“William?”, he finally asked, and I could hear his bewilderment.  
“Sire”, I said, “if you allow me to speak, I would like to explain...”

Before he could, though, Mithian appeared from the side, arm in arm with her father, and at a short nod of Arthur's, I retreated to let them speak with each other. It seemed like a miracle they hadn't been hurt in the fight.

With the sudden, uncomfortable feeling of having forgotten something, I looked around, trying to find Morgana's too well-known face, but couldn't. The witch had gone, had fled the melee, again. But before I could decide whether I was relieved or disappointed she wasn't amongst the dead, I noticed something else: Elyan was propped up against the stone-coffin of Lothar, with his mail-shirt torn on the left side. Blood was slowly seeping through the gash. I rushed over to him and knelt down on his side. Before I could have a look at the wound, the knight grabbed my hand and gave it a weak squeeze. His eyes had a strange, almost wild expression, but otherwise he seemed oddly calm and composed. Elyan managed to give me a weak smile and whispered something. I brought my ear closer to his mouth, but even then the words were too faint to catch. By the time I had sat up again, Elyan had stopped breathing.

A hiccoughing sob escaped my mouth, after which people finally noticed something had happened, and while I let Elyan's limp hand slip from my grip, stumbled up and retreated to the corner, the rest of the inseparables, including Gwaine, whom I hadn't seen before, Arthur and Merlin crowded around Elyan's body, shielding it from my sight. Then I saw Gwaine lift his eyes, which were full of tears, and find mine over the heads of Merlin and Percival. We looked at each other for mere seconds, then I averted my gaze and fled out of the chamber, back to the exit, back to sunlight, to get away from the King, from Elyan's body, and away from Gwaine, as fast as I could.


	10. Help

I stopped just outside of the tomb, where the air still reeked of blood and despair. My mind tried to register the fact that Elyan was dead. Elyan, who had been my friend through it all, who had known I was innocent and had tried to tell this to his crazed sister. I remembered the numb feeling which had taken over my mind after a while back when I was the bandits' prisoner, and wished it back with all my heart, because now every breath brought pain, every thought felt like a sharp splinter. Elyan was dead. He had died, just like that, so fast. There had not been any dramatic music swelling in the background and he hadn't looked like a fallen hero, he had looked like a person who was afraid to die. And there had been no goodbye, again, because his time had run out too fast.

My thoughts were moving in a loop as I tried to figure out whose fault this mess was, and they kept coming up with two names. One was Morgana, who had plotted against Arthur, who had led him here, who had whispered ideas into Odin's head, who had turned Gwen around. The other name was my own, not 'Sir William', but my birth name. The name of the tale-changer who should've prevented things like this to happen. I never should have become a changer at all, I had known I would suck at it, like I always did. And if I hadn't succumbed to the promises of the council, I'd still be working in that coffee shop, but at least there wouldn't be any blood on my hands.

“Will?”

I didn't turn round to Gwaine, who must have followed me to the outside. His voice sounded tired and worn-out, and I wondered whether he had been hurt during the fighting. I inspected the scars at my left wrist which the ropes of the bandits had inflicted and waited for the knight to go away again.

“Will”, he repeated, “wait. Talk to me, let me help.”

I snorted and turned around with more force than necessary, staggered and almost fell, but managed to say: “I had people before, too, you know? I had friends”, my voice wavered, because I could see their faces before my inner eye clearer than I had for a long time – Robin, Much, Allan, John... - “I had people I loved”, I closed my eyes, in a feeble try to not see Guy's face, but it was still there, hovering at the edge of my mind, “and they knew everything about me. Literally everything, more than you do, more than Gaius does. They wanted to help me too, and I wanted them to, so I let them, endangering everything for them. And still I lost them, Gwaine, I was sucked out of their world. I'm done with that. I'm done with feelings and relationships and all the crappy stuff connected to them, I'm done with not saying goodbye.” Gwaine frowned, but I didn't care that he might not understand my modern-day-speech. My meaning was clear enough even if I had spoken in old Norse. Which I actually could've.

“I don't want this any more – I want everything over and done with.” I paused, trying to regain breath, but wasn't able to keep silent for long: “You know what?”, I hissed, feeling anger boiling up inside of me: “I'm so sick of the waiting and skulking around! The longer I wait, the more people will get killed. There's only one way to stop Morgana. I'm not giving her any more chances.”

Gwaine stared at me with his mouth wide open. I started to cry and wasn't sure if it was because I was loosing myself, or because I had given up hope when Elyan stopped breathing, or because I was angry, but it made me all the more furious.

“I will”, I continued, my voice raising into a hysteric scream, “not wait for Camlann to happen! I will not wait for the Nathair to do their work, I will not stay put and watch Camelot fall. There will be no more deaths I'll be responsible for. I won't – I just won't.”

Then I started off into the direction of the woods.

I will find Morgana. And when I do, I will kill her, no matter the cost. She's done enough.

A small part in me begged me to stop and think, to remember what I had planned before, to remember that I was not some killing-machine, that maybe I had to give her a chance, but the far bigger part of my being simply shut the other one down with its fury. I will not see Arthur die. Or anyone else. There are enough people dead as it is, deaths that I could've prevented. I'm a tale-changer. I could be the saving grace for all these people. And I will be. No matter the cost.

“Will!”

I made about fifty steps until Gwaine caught up to me. Grabbing my arm, he spun me round so that I had to face him. He was furious, a sudden change to the sadness he had displayed before over Elyan's death, and I wondered why he wouldn't understand it was the only possible way.

The knight stared at me for a few seconds, shaking with anger, and then he slapped me in the face. Now It was my turn to stare at him, wide-eyed and in disbelief. My fingers shook as I instinctively touched my burning cheek.

“You need to listen now, Will”, Gwaine began to talk, very fast, with his voice hoarse and face flushed with anger: “You need to stop this sulking around, this feeling sorry for yourself and the whole mess you're in. We have all lost people before, we have lost friends, but do you see us just giving up? Because this is what you're doing: You are one a kamikaze mission, trying to stop something you have no control over, with no regard for your own safety, and sooner or later you'll get yourself killed. Is this what you want? Getting killed so you can tell yourself: 'I'm not the one who left'?”

I was too stunned to even shake my head. Or nod. I wasn't sure about that any more.

“You pretend it's all because of us, but you're wrong: You stopped thinking about us a long time ago. The second you decided it was you who had the power to shape our destinies you betrayed us. The way I see it, you have forgotten a small detail in your whole 'I need to save all of Camelot'-enterprise. You can't do this on your own, and nobody asked you to. Why would you think people expect you to save everything without assistance? Who said you couldn't have friends? A life, here, in this world, which by now I'm sure you regard as your own?”

He waited for me to answer, and after a few moments I did: “I do, but...”

“Then there is no 'but', Will! You don't have to do this on your own. A knight alone is vulnerable – but we are many. I understand why you have to keep your profession and purpose a secret here, but there are people who know, and we want to help you.”

His voice softened and he looked relieved at finally having told me this much. I had never expected such an outburst from Gwaine, who was, after all, the one who only joked around, got drunk every second night and was eating apples at every possibly inconvenient moment – but here he was, so obviously different from what I had believed him to be. Even after being his friend for years. Even after knowing how much he dared to do to keep his friends save, I had again underestimated him.

“Maybe”, he continued, “things will change, maybe they won't. Maybe they'll get worse, or everything works out in the end. In any case, you have given us another chance to set things right. You don't change our destinies. We do.”

A small part of my mind told me what Gwaine said was sensible. Another, bigger part, repeated lessons of the council: You are the changer. You need to take the steps. You need to stop at the right moment. It's your call, and you have been prepared for it.

“None of this is on you”, the knight added.

“I should've stopped him”, I burst out.

“You couldn't have”, Gwaine murmured sadly and then gave me half a smile: “You know he always got his way in the end.” The smile didn't reach his eyes. “None of this was your fault.”

The part of my brain reminding me of the council's rules melted away at his words. I nodded slowly and felt new tears running down my cheeks.

“I'm afraid”, I finally whispered, adding silently afraid to loose you if I let you chose your own way...

We moved at the same time, ending up in a tight embrace, giving comfort to each other. We had both lost a friend today, and it felt like nothing would ever be the same again. Gwaine rested his chin on top of my head, holding me close. I could hear his heart beat in his chest, fast and still angry, while his voice sounded like it was broken: “So am I”, he whispered, “but we'll do this together.”

**End of Part 2**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I do not approve of people slapping one another, but this is Camelot and I also believe this was overdue to bring Will back to her senses.
> 
> We'll continue in the third and final part: 'To Save the Once and Future King'.


End file.
